THE  LATIN  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 

By  J.  B.  iGreenoug/i. 

{!!lustratrd/rcin  rhologrnphs  by  Pack  Brothrrs.) 


while  they  scorn  the  other  heathen  writ- 
ings, yet  read  the  poems  of  Terence  all 
too  frequently."  The  consequences  of 
this  pernicious  practice  she  proceeds  (in 
her  preface)  to  describe,  and  notes  the 
advantages  of  her  purified  imitations, 
which  were  on  biblical  and  martyrologi- 
cal  subjects.  It  is  not  asserted  that  any 
of  her  pieces  nor  of  those  which  they 
were  to  supersede  were  really  played  in 
her  convent  or  elsewhere  ;  but  the  fact 
that  these  plays  of  Terence  are  singled 
out  especially,  when  plays  are  of  all 
literature  the  least  adapted  to  reading, 
taken  with  the  subsequent  history  of  such 


'v 

FOR  the  performance  of  a  Latin  play 
by  the  students  of  Harvard  College 
there  have  certainly  been  \  plenty 
of  precedents,  inasmuch  as  the  custom  of 
such  representations  in  schools,  both  for 
instruction  and  entertainment,  is  trace- 
able far  into  the  Middle  .-^ges. 

About  980,  Roswitha,  a  Benedictine 
nun  of  Gandersheim,  a  most  learned 
lady,  wTote  six  comedies  in  imitation  of 
Terence,  because,  as  she  says,  "  There 
are  many  good  Christians  who  prefer  the 
empty  show  of  heathen  works  to  the 
advantages  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  on 
account  of  the  superiority  of  a  more 
cultivated  language.  There  are  besides 
others   also,  diligent  Bible  readers,  who, 

*This  illustration  and  those  on  pages  498  and  502  are  re- 
produced from  the  libretto  of  the  play,  by  permission  of  the 
Latin  Department  of  Harvard  University. 


HSCLCGtS    'O,    3.   KCbRRTS). 


or4«"><>0'' 


40  J 


THE   LATIN  J'LAY  AT  HARIARD. 


Ill  I     \ 


iVMitKS   TIUMH 


liTijylflia^'ill) 


plays,  seems  tu  point  to  some  |)erforin- 
ance  of  them  in  some  shai)e  or  other. 

A  miracle  play  of  St.  Catherine  was 
acted  at  Dimslahle,  by  the  boys  of  the 
Abbey  School  about  the  year  iiio.  .As 
this  was  written  by  one  (leolTrey,  a  learned 
Norman,  it  couUl  hardly  have  been  in 
any  other  lanpiage  than  Uitin,  the 
cu.stoniar)'  lanj^iiage  of  the  clergy. 

In  the  year  i.?5o  a  "  I.iidiis  Filionni) 
Israelis"  was  performetl  at  forpus 
C"hristi  (College.  I'he  form  of  the  entry 
of  this  fact  in  the  records  suggests  the 
probability  that  a  play  in  some  form  was 
already  an  established  custom.  At  this 
same  date  it  was  a  practice  of  long  stand- 
ing at  the  lTni\ersity  of  Paris  to  ai  t 
tragedies  and  <-ouiedies.  In  i.vS6  an 
item  appears  in  liti '^/icient.nc<<iuij»i;  Of 
the  College  of.N(ichael  House  a(  Cam- 
bridge for  "  ar>.tihbj^)ider<.d  /«*//'«'*"; '-six 


m.isks  and  six  beards  for  liie  comedy." 
At  this  |Hiint  the  connection  is  lo^t 
in  the  direct  line  for  nearly  two  « tn 
turies,  but  the  practice  was  prob.i!ii\ 
ke|)t  up. 

The  line  is  continued  indirectly,  how- 
ever, in  Italy,  where  m  1498  the  scini 
heathen  I'omponiiis  l.;ietus  introdunij 
performances  in  l,itin  of  the  comciu^ 
of  riautus  an  I  Terence.  Hut  iIkm 
were  soon  tran-.lated  ami  imitated,  .ind 
hence  were  superseded  liy  vcrnac  ul.ir 
forms  of  plays.  It  would  appear,  tin  ri 
fore,  that  the  custom  of  giving  1  .ii;n 
plays  never  tiwk  root  in  that  coiiii'rv. 
Still  it  is  not  unlikely  th.it  the  < ':  :  n 
had  pre\ailed  before  in  the  niiiic  iii..l:; 
as  elsewhere,  ami  that  the  action  ..f 
I'omponiiis  wa.s  only  an  attempt  1  >  in 
troduce  real  classics  instead  of  mdiUrii 
I.ntin  pl.iys. 


THE   LATLX  PLAY  AT  JJARIARD. 


493 


In  1544  the  custom  of  producing 
Latin  plays  reappears  at  Cambridge.  In 
that  year  a  Latin  interlude,  entitled 
"  Pammachius,"  was  played  at  Christ's 
College,  in  which  the  papistical  rites 
and  ceremonies  were  ridiculed.  In 
1546  a  tragedy  of  "Jephtha,"  written 
both  in  Greelc  and  Latin,  was  introduced 
into  the  Christmas  shows  at  Cambridge. 
In  which  of  its  two  forms  it  was  played 
is  unknown,  but  more  likely  in  Latin. 
That  this  play  was  also  put  into  English 
appears  from  the  allusions  to  it  in 
"Hamlet,"  but  the  academic  perform- 
ance was  most  likely  in  Latin.  A  docu- 
ment, "  Status  scholae  Etoniensis;"  bear- 
ing date  1560,  assumes  the  practice  at 
Eton  of  exhibiting  plays  at  Christmas  as 
one  well  established  :  "  Circiter  Festum 
D.  Andreae  Ludi  Magister  elegere  solet 
pro  suo  arbitrio  Scenicas  fabulas  optimas 
et  quam    accommodatissimas  quas    pueri 


Feriis  Natalitiis  subsequentibus  non  sine 
ludorum  elegantia  populo  spectante  pub- 
lice  aliquando  peragant.  .  .  .  Interdum 
etiam  exhibet  Anglico  sermone  contextas 
fabulas  siquae  habeant  acumen  et  lepo- 
rem." 

That  is  ;  About  the  Feast  of  St.  An- 
drew, the  master  is  wont  to  select  at  his 
discretion  the  best  and  most  fitting  stage 
plays,  for  the  boys  to  act  at  the  Christ- 
mas holidays  with  all  the  elegance  of  the 
(regular)  plays,  sometimes  in  jjublic  in 
presence  of  the  people.  .  .  .  Sometimes 
also  he  gives  plays  written  in  the  Eng- 
lish tongue,  if  there  are  any  that  have 
acumen  and  grace. 

On  Sunday,  Aug.  6,  1564,  Queen 
Elizabeth,  visiting  Cambridge,  was  enter- 
tained with  a  presentation  of  the  "Aulu- 
laria "  of  Plautus,  in  King's  College 
Chapel.  The  next  day  she  witnessed 
the  tragedy  of  "  Dido,"  probably  also  in 


INTRCPIDIS  ■  OLIM  '  QM  •  STaBANT  •  AGMEN  •  AGRESTE 
GRXMINEO-  CAMPO  •  PONTICVLOVE  *  RVDI 

ILLIS  ■  NOS  •  PATRID\S  ■  LONGO  •  POST  •  TEMPORE  •  PROLES 
HAEC  •  MERITA  •  ANTIQVQ  •  MVNEHA  '  MORE  '  OA.MVS 


ORCX  ■  SPeCTATOtHByS  •  s 

Sshrie  o  Domini  gn*xt  tttagiUrl 
Do^rttu  uth  €t  %uper  repled 

Conkfi  r«tttr»b/ln  »tamn$ 

£ni<lii  ttemlittM  intru<iil 
Mmtmnmr  allMt  pM//wl«rvwc 
S«^«lr  O  tfKHi   aumm  tttrmtrt 
Spt^Mtoribvt  omni^t  tMluiem 
\ot4t  /«Ntla  pmlllmtm  afrtur 


P  •  TERENTl  •  AFRI 

PHORMIONEM 

r*tlVLAM    P*tLIAT>t»l     IN    V     ACTVS    DIMSA.H 

A    FREDCRICO    DC  FOHE5T    ALLEN 
AOET    OREX    nARVARDlAN\^ 


MVTaE  -  PERSONAE 


n  MRI     L\DIS    EDVNDIS    SVNT 
CVRATORCS    L^  DORVn 

coNCCVTv*!  Rcorr 


KKim  KH    tAl-MMllK   t'l-    WW    IKtM.KAM. 


THE   LATIN  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


495 


Latin.  "Great  preparations  were  made 
to  represent  the  '  Ajax  Flagellifer'  in 
Latin,  but  wiiether  the  queen  was  'weary 
with  ryding  in  the  forenoone  and  dis- 
putations after  dinner,  or  whether  anie 
private  occasion  letted  the  doinge  there- 
of was  not  commonly  knowen.'  So  she 
departed  early  the  next  morning,  and 
did  not  hear  it,  '  to  the  great  sorrow, 
not  only  of  the  players,  but  of  the  whole 
L'niversity.'  " 

At  Winchester,  in  1565,  an  item  of 
expense  was  entered  for  the  plays  at 
Christmas,  and  in  1574  the  plays  there 


out  of  forty- two,  only  one  known  clas- 
sical play,  the  "  Aulularia,"  a  number  of 
Hnglish  ones,  and  the  greater  jiart  plays 
written  for  the  occasion  in  Latin  on 
either  ancient  or  modern  subjects.  The 
University  play  was  familiar  to  Shake- 
speare, and  he  alludes  to  it  in  "  Ham- 
let," Act  IIL,  So.  2  :  — 

Ham.  My  lord,  you  played  once  i'  the  univer- 
sity, you  say? 

Pol.  That  did  I,  my  lord,  and  was  accounted 
a  good  actor. 

I/iuit.     And  what  did  you  enact? 

I'o/.  I  did  enact  Julius  Ca:sar;  I  was  killed  i' 
the  Cajiitol;    Brutus  killed  me. 


DAVOS    (F.    K.   BALL). 


lasted  three  days  and  three  nights,  as  it 
is  said  in  the  account  books,  "  in  Itidis 
comoediarum  et  tragoediarum." 

In  1579  the  tragedy  of  "  Richard 
the  Third  "  in  Latin  \  erse  was  acted  at 
St.  John's  College.  In  1605  the  comedy 
of  "Vertumnus"  was  acted  at  Oxford  be- 
fore King  James.  The  custom  continued 
at  the  universities  till  1647,  when  a  se- 
vere law  against  players  put  a  stop  to  it. 

The  long  list  of  plays  acted  at  Cam- 
bridge between  1350  and  1647  contains. 


In  Germany  the  custom  was  fully  es- 
tablished in  Luther's  time.  This  was 
distinctly  so  at  ^Vittenberg.  So  at 
Magdeburg  it  was  the  standing  order  that 
yearly  at  least  one  Latin  comedy  should 
be  acted  before  the  masters ;  and  the 
constitution  of  the  school  at  Gustrow, 
dated  in  1552,  prescribes  that  every  half- 
year  a  Latin  comedy  of  Plautus  or 
Terence  shall  be  acted  by  the  boys,  but 
without  costume,  that  they  may  thereby 
learn  Latin  well  ;  and  that  older  scholars 


496 


THE  LATIN  FLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


I'llARPRlA    (J.  R. 


ANTirilO   (J.   B.   OLHUK). 


shall  recite  also  a  dialogue  of  I.iician 
in  (ireek.  The  custom,  however,  tloes 
not  seem  to  have  obtained  the  perma- 
nence in  ("lermany  that  it  diii  in  I'^ngland. 
It  is  at  Westminster  that  the  custom  has 
been  best  preserved.  The  reading  of 
'I'erence  was  introduced  there  by 
Alexander  Nowell,  for  the  better  learning 
of  the  pure  Roman  style,  in  1543.  The 
comedy  of  "Roister  Doister,"  written 
about  1550,  is  stated  by  its  author  to  be 
written  in  imitation  of  the  classical 
models  of  Plautus  and  Terence.  So 
that  it  would  seem  that  the  study  of 
the  Latin  ])lavs  was  well  established  by 
the  beginning  of  Kli/.abellVs  reign.  Tliat 
some  I.itin  jilays  were  acted  is  clear  from 
a  statute  of  l'",lizabeth,  which  jirovides 
under  i)enally  of  ten  shillings  for  a  I-itin 
play  every  year.  These  might  of  course  be 
modern  l,itin,  but  from  the  importance 
attached  to  I'lautus  and  'icrence  as  above 
set  forth  it  is  likely  that  st)me  of  these 
cla.ssical  plays  were  performed  as  well. 

.•\n  old  account  of  the  year  1564  has 
an  item  :  "  For  certeyne  jilayes  by  the 
gramer  skole  of  Westmynstcr  and  chil- 
derne  of  I'owles  (St.  I'aul's  grammar 
school)."      Whether    the    plays   at     the 


school  were  discontinued  about  1647,  on 
account  of  the  severe  laws  against  players, 
is  uncertain.  Probably  they  were  ;  but 
they  might  also  have  been  continued  in 
private  without  infringing  the  law.  .\t 
any  rale  they  rea]>|)ear  again  in  1704,  in 
which  year  the  "  .Amphitruo "  was  per- 
formed at  Westminster ;  and  they  ap- 
pear essentially  in  the  form  in  which 
they  are  now  represented,  exceiH  that 
the  jirologues  and  epilogues  were  at  first 
in  Knglish.  The  scenes  were  localities 
in  Kngland.  Hut  in  1758  an  .Athenian 
scene  was  first  adopted,  which  lasted 
till  1S09,  when  it  was  replaced  by  a  new 
one,  a  copy  of  the  old.  In  1.S57  an 
entirely  new  scene  was  painted,  which  is 
still  ]>reser\ed  in  use.  It  was  not  till 
1839  that  (Ireek  costumes  were  used, 
whereas  before  the  actors  had  appeared 
in  the  dress  of  the  i)eriod,  as  was  the 
custom  of  those  times.  .Almost  all  the 
plays  have  been  classic.  Only  one 
modern  I.atin  one  has  found  a  place, 
the  "Ignoramus,"  written  about  1711  by 
one  Kugglcs. 

iiie  '•  .\uiphitruo,"  " .Aulularia,"  and 
"Trinummus"  of  I'lautus  have  occasion- 
ally been  jilayed,  but  generally  the  plays 


THE   LATIX  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


49; 


have  been  limited  to  the  "  Adelphi," 
"  Phormio,"  "  Andria,"  and  "  Kunuchus" 
of  Terence.  The  present  cj'cle  inckides 
only  "  Adelphi,"  "  Phormio,"  "  Andria," 
and  "Trinummus."  As  we  should  expect 
from  the  traditional  character  of  the 
representation,  there  is  no  attemjit  at 
archEeologicai  accuracy,  either  in  the 
setting  or  the  delivery  and  action.  They 
are  purposely  treated  in  the  old  prescien- 
tific  manner,  recited  as  prose  with  the 
English  pronunciation,  and  without  ac- 
companiment. The  chief  interest  is 
often  in  the  ])rologues  and  epilogues, 
which  are  up-to-date  local,  gags,  often 
e.\treniely  clever  and  funny.  Thus  they 
have  become  modern  or  traditional  adap- 
tations, and  are,  perhaps,  all  the  more 
amusing  on  that  account.  They  are 
almost  a  national  event,  like  a  boat  race 
or  cricket  match. 

This  custom  of  plays  in  schools  was 
not  brought  to  this  country  by  our  an- 
cestors, and  has  never  been  introduced 
until  very  lately,  so  that  our  classic  plays 


are  essentially  a  new  departure,  and  do 
not  connect  at  all  with  the  old  traditions. 
The  first  attempt,  so  far  as  I  know,  to 
produce  a  classic  play  in  this  country, 
was  the  Greek  play  at  Cambridge,  in 
i88i,  though  it  is  quite  likely  that  Latin 
plays,  classic  or  other,  have  been  per- 
formed privately  in  Catholic  colleges. 
The  "  Oedipus  "  at  Cambridge  has  been 
followed  by  others  in  various  parts  of  the 
country,  notably  by  the  admirable  per- 
formance of  the  "  Antigone  "  by  the  girls 
of  Vassar  a  year  ago.  The  first  Latin 
play  in  this  country  was  given  by  the 
students  of  Jilichigan  University,  at 
.\nn  .-^rbor,  and  later  at  Chicago,  the 
"  Menaechmi "  of  Plautus.  In  this  no 
rigid  antiquarian  accuracy  was  sought 
for,  and  modern  music  by  a  modern  or- 
chestra, as  well  as  an  extra  serenade, 
were  introduced.  Nor  was  metrical  de- 
livery in  the  manner  of  the  ancients  at- 
tempted. The  performance  of  the  "  Cap- 
tivi  "  last  year,  in  New  York  and  Chicago, 
by  students  of  St.  Francis  Xavier  College, 


PHORMIO  (e.  k.  rand). 


4;iH 


THE   LATJi\  PLAY  AT  HARV  tRH 


a|ii>arcnlly  aiim-il  at  i\ai  Iik>>  oI  uprt 
sentation,  if  wc  luay  jinli;f  by  the  |)reface 
to  the  hbretto,  and  the  costumes  for  the 
most    i)art,  as  they  appear   in   a  photo- 


irraph,  are  Greek  ; 
but  as  the  music 
was  set  for  mixed 
modern  i  n  s  t  r  u  - 
ments,  and  the  tra- 
ditional Catholic 
])ronunciation  of 
Latin  was  pre- 
served, it  would 
seem  that  nothing 
like  the  delivery  of 
the  ancients  could 
be  ex])ected.  It 
ought  to  be  men- 
tioned, however, 
that  the  music,  ac- 
lording  to  the  pref- 
ace, was  composed 
in  ancient  scales,  so 
far  as  this  could  be 
done  with  modern 
harmony.  1  regret 
that  I  was  not  in 
Chicago  in  time  to 
witness  the  repre- 
sentation. 

.■\s  to  our  own 
attempt  at  Cam- 
bridge, it  was  in- 
tended to  be  as 
exact  a  reproduc- 
tion of  the  ancient 
ilelivery  as  was 
])raciicable,  and  no 
pains  were  spared 
to  that  end.  Some 
antiquities,  how- 
ever, we  deliber- 
ately rejected,  such 
as  masks  and  an- 
cient scales  (except 
in  one  interlude). 
The  great  ilifliculty 
which  we  fotmd  was 
in  the  musical  ac- 
I  ompaniment.  We 
had  discussed  the 
ipiestiun  of  a  I-itiii 
play  for  some 
twenty  years  with- 
o>it  getting  any 
lurthcr  aiua.l,  and  should  ne\er  have  at- 
tempted one  had  not  I'rof.  F.  I>.  .Mien 
succeeded  in  establishing  at  least  a  iupi/iis 
itgfiii/i,  if  not  a  permanent  solution  of  the 


THE    LATIN   FLAY  AT  HARl'ARD. 


499 


<8 


CRATINUS. 

(L.    H.    DOW.) 


(J. 


difficulty.  To  give  a  Latin  comedy  with- 
out the  proper  music  seemed  a  reversed 
anachronism.  But  what  music,  and  in 
what  relation  to  the  text?  In  a  tragedy 
the  question  of  music  is  comparatively 
easy  of  solution.  The  chorus  does  the 
singing  separately,  and  can  as  well  sing  in 
modern  forms  as  ancient.  Mendelssohn's 
charming  music  to  the  ". Antigone "  and 
Mr.  Paine's  noble  choruses  in  the  "Oedi- 
pus" are  worthy  of  the  superb  lines  to 
which  they  are  set,  and  present  to  our 
ears  practically  no  jarring  inconsistencies. 
But  in  the  New  Comedy,  as  we  ha\e  it 
adapted  by  Plautus  and  Terence,  fully 
one  half  was  delivered  musically,  not  by  a 
chorus  but  by  individual  actors,  and  ac- 
companied by  the  music  of  the  pipe.  It 
is  plain  to  see  that  this,  was  not  a  matter 
to  be  easily  disposed  of. 

The  other  half  of  the  play,  the  divcr- 
biiim,  as  distinguished  from  the  catiti- 
cum  or  musical  parts,  could  easily  be 
managed.  But  still  even  the  diverlnum  was 
metrically  delivered ;  and  metrically  to 
the  ancients  meant  something  quite  dif- 
ferent from  what  we  call  by  that  name. 
Metre  in  the  ancient  sense  has  perished. 
It  can  onlv  be  resuscitated  bv 


patient  practice.  Even  with  a  practice 
of  six  months  we  failed  to  revive  it  per- 
fectly in  the  ears  of  boys  who  had  been 
accustomed  from  babyhood  to  our  un- 
rhythmic  English  speech.  But  in  spite 
of  many  slips  the  public  had  a  fair  repre- 
sentation of  what  metrical  recitation  must 
have  been  in  the  mouth  of  a  Roman. 

.■\s  to  the  musical  parts,  we  were 
after  all  forced  to  compromise.  In  the 
present  state  of  our  knowledge  it  is 
not  certain  which  parts  of  the  canti- 
cum  were  accompanied  note  for  note, 
and  which  had  melodramatic  music 
(ff(i/jitAara,\oi')/),  though  we  know  that 
both  forms  of  accompaniment  were  used. 
They'/^^v  effect  of  six-eight  time,  the  time 
to  which  iambic  and  trochaic  rhythms 
correspond,  seemed  at  variance  with  the 
sentiment  of  much  of  the  play.  Conse- 
quently that  time  was  adopted  in  only  a 
very  small  portion  of  the  accompaniment, 
and  the  rest  was  left  to  a  kind  of  melo- 
dramatic music  in  four-four  time.  This, 
however,  became  in  the  performance 
twehe-eight.  For  each  beat  of  the  four- 
four  time  was  so  adjusted  in  most  parts 
that  it  occupied  the  time  of  a  whole 
Kit  of  'he    verse,    the    foot   containing 


\  ^  >». 


•r 


\ 


% 


8* 


THE   LATIN  PLAY  AT  HAK\  ARD. 


three  times  or  morae.  A  small  part  was 
made  even  less  exact  than  this,  and  the 
music  only  came  in  with  little  strains 
at  intervals,  so  that  the  time  could  not 
be  easily  noticed.  Still  even  in  these 
detached  strains  the  beat  was  made  to 
coincide  with  the  ictus  of  the  verse  and 


^U^ 


PHAEPRIA. 

keep  the  semblance  of  conformity.  With 
all  these  forms  of  accompaniment  it  was 
necessary  to  preserve  the  rhythm  of  the 
verse  in  recitation  with  considerable  ex- 
actness, though,  in  view  of  the  difficulty  of 
keeping  time  in  poetry  without  a  tune  to 
suggest  and  enforce  the  rhvthm,  some 
latitude  was  unavoidably  allowed.  I  do 
not  know  of  any  previous  attempt  to  re- 
produce the  effect  of  exact  time  along 
with  the  expressive  utterance  of  lively 
conversation  as  it  must  have  been  prac- 
tised by  the  Romans. 

To  produce  the  effect  of  the  ancient 
pipe  and  at  the  same  time  to  avoid 
monotony.  Prof.  Allen  wrote  the  music 
for  oboe,  two  clarionets  and  bassoon, 
rarely  allowing  more  than  two  instruments 
to  play  together,  and  often  only  one  alone, 
except  in  the  interludes,  where  fuller 
harmonv    was    introduced.     The    effect 


was  found  to  be  not  unpleasing,  and  cer- 
tainly could  not  be  far  from  the  sound  of 
the  ancient  pipes.  The  piper  or  pipers  on 
the  stage  with  dummy  pipes  fitted  to  the 
mouthpiece  {ciJ(tiJlifi<f,capist> urn)  followed 
the  music  in  imitation,  and  their  per- 
formance was  not  by  any  means  the  least 


y  / 


DORIO    (w.    F.    HARRIS). 

artistic  part  of  the  play.  In  fact,  very 
many  persons  were  actually  deceived  by 
it.  Thus  the  effect  of  the  ancient  music 
of  the  piper  was  fairly  well  represented. 

In  the  action,  too,  the  attempt  was 
made  to  represent,  so  far  as  it  could  be 
discovered,  the  ancient  manner  of  action. 
Wherever  an  attitude  or  movement  or 
gesture  could  be  discovered  by  any  of 
us  in  any  allusion  in  literature  or  repre- 
sentation in  art,  we  endeavored  to  re- 
produce it.  Much  of  course  had  to  be 
left  to  the  realistic  feeling  of  the  actors, 
most  of  whom  were  entirely  unskilled  in 
the  art,  and  so  better  fitted  to  carry  out 
an  antiquarian  study.  It  is  a  great  pleas- 
ure to  us  that  so  many  persons  were 
pleased  with  the  performance  in  spite  of 
its  antiquarian  character. 

The  reader  will  notice  in  the  pictures 
some  attitudes  and  a  number  of  gestures 


5^y> 


THE   LATiy  /'/.AY  AT  I/ARIARD. 


which  differ  from  our  ordinary  ones. 
These  were  drawn  chiefly  from  Quintihan 
and  the  miniatures  of  the  Vatican  man- 
uscript, and  apparently  belongeii  to 
the  conventions  of  the  ancient  stajje. 
Again  the  movements  on  the  stage  were 
more  varied  and  violent  than  we  should 
ex|)ect  now  in  a  play  of  the  same  general 
class.  'I'his  also  was  conventional. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  the  action  of 
even  a  more  (juict  i)lay  ("  l-'aliula  Sta- 
taria"),  like  the  "  I'hormio,"  was  much 
mure  pmnounced  in  gesticiil.ition,  panto- 
mime and  movement  than  we  usuallv  sec. 


except  in  a  horseplay 
farce.  The  Mediterra- 
nean nations  are  re- 
markable for  a  freedom 
of  gesture  almost 
amounting  to  panto- 
mime, which  is  un- 
known to  the  Northern 
jieoples,  and  this  ten- 
dency seems  to  have 
come  down  to  them 
from  very  early  times  ; 
so  that  the  pantomime 
of  the  slaves,  the  anger 
of  the  father,  the  terror 
of  the  delin(|uent  hus- 
band, and  the  despair 
of  the  yoimg  lovers  may 
be  regarded,  at  any  rate 
were  intended,  as  a 
natural  and  even  con- 
ventional exhibition  of 
this  tendency. 

In  the  costumes,  also, 
we  enileavored  to  follow 
such  descriptions  and 
representations  as  have 
been  preserved  to  us. 
These  are  few,  but 
enough  to  give  the  gen- 
eral features.  The 
long,  loose  robe  of  the 
pipers,  the  short  tunic 
and  small  /'allium,  or 
wra|),  of  the  slaves,  the 
tunic  and  chlamys,  or 
cloak,  of  the  young 
men,  the  long-sleeved 
tunic  reaching  to  the 
heels  (lalitris  and 
iiianiiittti ) ,  with  the 
ample  p,illiiim  with  fringe,  the  hat  (/>t- 
lasiis)  allowed  to  hang  down  the  back 
when  not  in  actual  use,  the  cuned  staff 
of  the  rich  old  men,  the  i)arty-colored 
pjllium  of  Dorio,  and  the  whole  array  of 
Nausistrata  were  taken  directly  from  de- 
scriptions and  works  of  art.  'I'he  make- 
up was  stinlied  in  the  same  manner,  so 
mu(  h  so  that  .\[r.  Rothe  visited  the  .N'au- 
cratis  ])ictures,  when  they  were  at  the 
Art  Museum,  to  observe  the  complexion 
anil  cast  of  features  of  these  long-de- 
jiarled  Creeks.  There  were  many  <le- 
t.iils.  as  was  natural,  which   had    to    be 


/ 


THE  LATIX  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


503 


filled  in  without  evidence  :  but 
in  the  main  there  was  a  war- 
rant for  all  the  essential  features 
of  the  play,  even  to  the  adver- 
tisements of  the  performance 
and  the  libretto.  Nothing  that 
we  could  find  evidence  for  was 
changed  from  ancient  custom. 
'I'he  stage  setting  also  was 
meant  to  conform  to  that  de- 
scribed by  ancient  writers,  al- 
though some  architectural  de- 
tails that  escaped  our  notice 
would  no  doubt  be  observed  by 
any  learned  architect. 

It  will  be  seen,  therefore, 
that  the  play,  so  far  as  it  was 
pleasing,  gave  pleasure  along 
the  lines  of  ancient  dramatic  art, 
without  any  aid  from  modern 
realism.  In  this  respect  it  dif- 
fers from  any,  so  far  as  I  know, 
that  has  preceded  it.  I  have 
heard  that  a  play  was  once  per- 
formed, within  a  dozen  years  or 
so,  in  Paris,  with  masks,  but  I  have  not 
been  able  to  verify  the  story.  If  this 
is  true,  that  attempt  was  in  the  same 
direction  as  our  own.  We  did  not  try 
masks,  but  tried  to  make  the  faces  imi- 


tate them  without  entirely  los- 
ing their  character  as  faces. 

I  was  too  closely  connected 
with  the  performance  to  be  at 
liberty  to  speak  of  the  merits  of 
^     the  performers,  but  I  feel  con- 
J|r      strained    to  bear    testimony,  as 
few  could   do  so  well  as  I,  to 
the  utter  devotion  to  the  cause 
on  the  part  of  e\erybody  who 
was  asked  to  help  in  any  man- 
ner.     There    may   be    a    free- 
masonry of  amateurs  as  opposed 
to  the  shrewdness  and  grudging 
distrust  of  money  getters  ;   but 
'  at  any  rate,  everybody  that  had 

anything   to  do  with    this  play 
put  in  his  best  without  regard 
to    cost.       The    rehearsal    was 
long  and  might  well   have   be- 
come  tedious  but  for  the  gener- 
St-fSii         °^*  willingness  of  the  actors  to 
sacrifice  everything  to  the  play. 
If  we  had    had  a   college  ma- 
chine   to    record    absences,    it 
would  have  rusted  on  its  axle  for  want  of 
work.     It  was  only  necessary  to  say  who 
was  wanted  that  day,  and  everybody  ap- 
peared on  time  and  stayed  as  long  as  we 
wanted,  whether    he   got   any   dinner  or 


A    I!OY     0-    "■    CARREt) 


rlKICEN    (A.   A.    BRYANT). 


SOPHRONA     (M.    »■•    MATHEK). 


5U4 


THE   LATIX  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


PROF,   J.    H.  r.REFSOl'C.H. 

not.  Nobody  knew  more  than 
everybody  else,  or  even  than  any- 
l)ody  else.  The  (|uestion  was 
only  what  was  best  for  the  play. 
Few  things  are  done  in  I  Iar\ard 
College,  or  in  any  college,  with 
such  unanimity  among  both  di- 
rectors and  assistants  as  that 
which  was  shown  in  this  under- 
taking. .Xnybody  could  get  wy 
a  play  with  such  a  spirit  as  thai. 
Those  who  had  never  looked 
a  row  of  footlights  in  the  face 
were  determined  not  to  be  out- 
tlone  bv  the  most  experienced 
(who  hardly  thought  themselves 
any  too  mu<  h  so),  and  any  sug- 
gestion from  any  quarter  went 
into  the  general  ho]>i>er  and  was 
ground  up  with  the  rest.  Nor 
were  the  iirofession.il  as^i^lants, 
the  coslumers,  the  i>ainters  and 
hairdressers  behind  in  the  same 
unsparing    L.xpcnditure   of    time 


and  thought.  The  scene  painter 
was  given  a  book  of  classical 
works  of  art  and  selected  from 
two  or  three  thousand  pictures 
the  one  best  ailapted  to  the  i)ur- 
pose  of  them  all.  It  was  a  trans- 
lation into  color,  admirably  done 
as  we  thought,  of  the  famous  re- 
lief of  the  IJritish  Museum,  rep- 
resenting the  bearded  I  )ionysus 
with  his  it>itif;e  received  by  a  vic- 
torious tragic  poet.  So  success- 
ful a  representation  of  a  model 
in  a  difterent  medium  means 
no  ha])hazard  by-the-job  work, 
llarnest  artistic  effort  was  re- 
(juired,  anil  that  workman's  con- 
.icience  had  to  come  into  ])lay 
which  is  the  salt  of  the  world, 
whether  it  lurks  under  red  flan- 
nel or  imjjerial  ])ur|>le.  So  with 
the  costumes,  the  prettiest  bit  of 
color  in  the  whole,  the  yellow 
pipers  —  our  daffodils,  as  a   ladv 


f  - 


THE  LATLX  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


605 


PROF.    F.   D.  AM.EN. 

called  them — were  the  costumer's  own 
suggestion.  The  color  scale  was  pur- 
posely kept  low,  and  needed  just  that 
touch  of  high  light  to  make  the  whole 
artistic. 

It    is   a  comfort  to  feel  that   Harvard 


College  with  its  connections, 
when  it  really  wants  to  do  any- 
thing, hasn't  any  more  indiffer- 
ence than  the  craziest  of  cranks. 
Even  the  professional  photog- 
rapher forgot  that  he  was  a 
professional,  and  was  as  ama- 
teurishly enthusiastic  as  if  he  had 
never  done  anythmg  but  press 
the  button  of  a  kodak.  He 
thought  the  subjects  were  good, 
and  was  bound  to  take  them,  no 
matter  which  or  how  many  sold. 
And  I  fancy  that  spirit  shows  in 
the  result.  That  the  reader  can 
judge,  as  many  of  the  illustrations 
of  this  article  are  reproductions 
of  these  photographs. 

The    "Phormio,"    considered 
artistically,  is  a  fine  piece  of  dra- 
matic construction,  the  best  that 
remains  to  us  of  the  new  comedy. 
If  that  great  body  of   literature 
had  been  preserved  to  us,  doubt- 
less we  should  have  better  ones. 
But  of  Terence's  plays  we  have 
only  six ;    and  Plautus  is  far  in- 
ferior   to   him  in  dramatic  con- 
struction and  character  drawing. 
The  double  plot  is  to  my  mind 
not  a  blemish,  but  a  distinct  ad- 
vance on  any  of  the  other  plays.     The 
two    motives  which    are  interwoven  are, 
as   was  the    taste  of  that    time   (and    if 
we  consider  the  modern  novel  we   may 
see  that  all  men    still  love  a  lover),  the 
trials   of  the    two    young    men,  Antipho 


DIE  •  XIX  •  APRILIS 


CO 


RMIO 

lEM  •  VIII 


T'lauea^fc-foj,]  ITTATVR 
QVISQVIS  •  HAXC  •  TESSERAM  •  EXHIBVERIT 


AliMlbsloN     IICKII. 


506 


THE   LATLX  I'l.AY  AT  HARVARD. 


0^ 


'i 


M.  W.   MATIIKR. 
I.   R.  nl.lVKR. 


and  I'hacdria,  in  sciuring  the  objects  of 
their  alTei  lions  rc>|>c(tively.  And  cer- 
tainlv  trom  tlio  first  these  motives  are 
artfully  intertwined.  Hardly  any  two 
could  lie  more  so.  This  imion  gives  the 
l)laywright  an  exquisite  oiiportimity  for 
contrasting  the  situations  of  the  two  boys 
in  their  own  words.  Ivach  thinks  the 
other  is  the  lucky  one.  I'haedria  is  in 
love  without  jiossession,  but  is  not  inex- 
tricably cntangle<l.  Anti|>ho  is  fully  com- 
mitted by  a  fraudulent  marriage,  and  is  in 
momentary  danger  of  meeting  the  anger 
of  his  father  and  being  dei)rived  of  his 
love.  The  scene  in  which  they  compare 
notes  is  a  marvel  of  dramatic  writing, 
not  surpassed  in  delicacy  and  a(  umcn  by 


any  modern  Trench  dramatist.     The  two  motives  con- 
tinue to  run  parallel  until  the  discovery  of  Phanium's 
parentage,  where  one  seems  to  be  lost ;  but  it  is  pre- 
cisely the  iiiiwuement  of  .Antipho's  tangle  that  enables 
the    ever-active    I'hormio    to    wTing    the    money   from 
the  old  men   to  purchase 
I'haedria's     love.       Even 
when  both  the  knots  are 
untied,  where  a   modern 
play  would    dribble  away 
with  otiose  platitudes,  the 
interest    is    kejit    up    by 
changing  to  the  too  much 
married  Chremes,  and  so 
the  play  ends  with   Nau- 
sistrata's  righteous  indig- 
nation  and  obviously  in- 
dicated  reconciliation. 
One  can  hardly  see  how 
the    interest    of    a    play 
could  by  any  changes  of 
situation    and    shift- 
ing   of   interest    be 
better  kei)t  up  to  the 
very  end.     We  have 
unfortunately  become 
so  blunted  by  modern 
forms    of   the  drama 
to  the   finer   touches 
anil  delicate  nuances 
of  real  art,  that  noth- 
ing  but  very   strong 
sensations    interest 
us,  and  it  is  only  by 
looking  for  these  fine 
strokes   that  we  can 
find  them. 

Then,  again,  take 
the  two  rogues  of  the  play,  the  characters 
that  in  ancient  times  occupied  the  place 
of  the  modern  villain.  The  shrewdness 
of  ( "leta,  set  olT  as  he  is  by  the  dull  1  )avus 
as  a  foil,  when  he  defends  .Antiijho  against 
his  angry  father,  and  later  works  up  the 
])lot  to  get  the  money  for  Thaedria,  is 
not  siiri)assed  by  the  trickery  of  any 
character  in  ancient  or  modern  comedy. 
It  is  not  so  broad  farce  as  we  have  in 
many  i)lays,  but  it  has  the  same  delicacy 
of  touch,  and  in  the  highest  deg^ree  that 
is  found  in  all  Terence's  w<^rk.  In  I'hor- 
mio we  have  the  same  rascality  but  on 
a  higher  plane,  with  an  ingenuity  and 
a  cool  impudence  that  are  as  character- 
istic  of  the   ]>arasite  as  t'lCta's    qualities 


E.  K.   RANI>. 
C.   R.  NOVKS. 


THE   LATIN  PLAY  AT  HARVARD. 


507 


are  of  the  tricky  slave.  The  scenes  in 
which  I'hormio  plans  to  defend  the  boy 
Antipho  and  vanquishes  Demipho  with 
his  three  prosy  frieiids  are  perfect  devel- 
opments of  the  plot  and  at  the  same 
time  exquisite  character  sketches.  The 
ancients  liked  distinct  characters  as  well 
as  we ;  but  where  we  let  the  character 
dominate  the  play  and  absorb  all  the 
dramatic  effect,  they  were  skilful  enough 
to  weave  all  in  together,  so  that  the  plot 
itself  is  a  natural  expression  of  the 
characters  ;  nothing  is  sacrificed  to  the 
prominence  of  the  star,  while  our  drama 
is  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches.  It 
is  no  wonder  that  the  whole  modern 
drama  was  founded  on  imitations,  often 
very  feeble  ones  at  that,  of  the  plays  of 
Plautus  and  Terence.  A  return  to  their 
methods  might  develop  a  school  even  of 
American  pla)'wrights.  It  is  idle  to  hope 
for  such  a  return,  for  the  box  office 
would  protest  against  it.  That  has  to  be 
governed  by  the  most  ignorant  and  dull- 
est persons  who  can  buy  a  ticket,  and 
horseplay  and  gag  song  are  the  best 
drawing  cards  that  we  have.  Even  the 
finest  French  plays  have  to  be  mutilated 
and  vulgarized  to  fit  our  common  audi- 
ences. "  Friend  Fritz  ''  had  to  have  a  lot  of 
irrelevant  gag  songs,  and  then  was 
obliged  to  give  place  to  a  variety  show 
strung  on  a  slender  thread  of  plot.  It  is 
a  comfort  to  know  that  Terence's  plays 
had  to  contend  with  the  same  difficulties. 
One  of  them  failed  twice  before  it  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  the  stage,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  that  the  vulgar  excrescences 
and  gags  of  Plautus  helped  more  than 
anything  else  to  make  him  popular. 

Exception  has  sometimes  been  taken  to 
the  first  act  of  the  "  Phormio"  as  consist- 
ing wholly  of  narration  ;  but  to  me  it  has 
always  seemed,  as  it  did  to  the  ancients, 
the  perfection  of  economy  in  art.  The 
whole  interest  of  the  play  turns  on  the 
events  following  the  arrival  home  of  the 
father.  To  represent  on  the  stage  any 
of  the  previous  action  would  dissipate 
the  interest  with  a  number  of  details, 
which  would  destroy  not  merely  the  unity 
of  time  and  place,  a  matter  of  little  con- 
sequence, but  the  unity  of  the  plot  as 
well.  Hut  the  audience  must  know  what 
that  action  has  been.     So  the  short  first 


act  consists  wholly  of  a  masterly  narra- 
tive, interrupted  occasionally  by  dull  re- 
marks of  Davus,  which  puts  the  audience 
in  possession  of  the  necessary  knowledge  ; 
and  the  play  proceeds  in  the  second  act 
without  delay  with  the  representation  of 
the  state  of  mind  of  the  two  boys.  Then 
comes  the  alarm  of  the  old  man's  com- 
ing, and  the  superb  scene  in  which  An- 
tipho IS  braced  up  to  meet  his  father, 
only  to  run  away  in  terror  the  moment  he 
sees  him  coming.  In  this  way  the  action 
moves  on  naturally  but  rapidly  in  its 
development. 

Something  may  be  said  of  the  morality 
of  the  play,  especially  as  our  brilliant 
Benedictine  Roswitha  was  moved  to 
write  new  plays  to  take  the  place  of  what 
she  considered  the  impure  ones  of  Ter- 
ence. It  is  true  that  the  scenes  of  the 
new  comedy  are  for  the  most  part  laid  in 
what  we  should  consider  a  very  corrupt 
society.  In  fact  Plautus  boasts  in  the 
epilogue  to  the  "  Captivi " —  if  indeed  it  is 
his,  as  is  generally  supposed —  that  that 
play  is  a  very  virtuous  one,  with  noth- 
ing to  offend  the  most  fastidious.  He 
thereby  implies  a  consciousness  that  the 
others  were  less  so.  So  they  were  un 
doubtedly  considered  more  or  less  by  the 
Romans,  and  perhaps  by  the  Greeks  too. 

But  roguery  and  knavery  are  often  vi- 
vacious and  witty,  while  virtue  is  often 
dull  ;  and  in  all  times  the  contemplation 
of  villains  and  disreputable  persons, 
though  distressing  in  real  life,  has  had,  if 
far  enough  away  and  long  enough  ago  to 
be  out  of  our  immediate  sphere,  an  inex- 
plicable charm  for  the  most  sober-minded 
persons.  Roswitha's  diligent  Bible  readers 
who  delighted  in  Terence  were  no  doubt 
influenced  as  much  by  this  as  by  the  ele- 
gance of  his  style.  F"or  that  matter,  the 
plays  of  Terence  and  Plautus  too  are, 
with  the  exception  of  now  and  then  an 
improper  joke  or  two,  harmless  enough. 
The  doings  of  the  characters  were  at  the 
time  the  scene  is  laid  hardly  even  dis- 
reputable. The  relations  of  men  and 
women,  master  and  slave,  father  and  son, 
were  so  different  from  our  notions  of 
them  to-day,  that  we  feel  that  these 
characters  are  not  patterns  nor  even 
warnings  for  us  in  these  relations,  any 
more  than   those  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and 


A  I'AHE  OK  rilK  MU&IC 


TIDE-RIDE. 


509 


Jacob.  Their  emotions  and  sentiments 
are  burs,  but  their  circumstances  and 
lives  are  as  far  outside  us  as  those  of  the 
cave  man  or  the  inhabitants  of  Mars. 
And  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  "Phormio" 
is  an  exceptionally  clean  play.  We  had 
to  cut  only  one  line,  and  that  perhaps 
only  from  oversqueamishness.  There  is 
more  suggestion  of  evil  in  any  F^nglish 
play  that  can  be  mentioned,  as  realisti- 
cally produced  in  modern  times,  than  in 
all  Terence,  and,  if  we  except  one  frag- 
mentary play,  in  Plautus  too.  The 
"  Phormio"  turns,  to  be  sure,  on  what  are 
to  us  somewhat  irregular  relations  of  the 
sexes ;  but  the  women  never  appear 
on  the  stage,  we  never  have  any  sug- 
gestive talk  about  them  such  as  no 
English  play  is  free  from,  nor  are  there 
any  exciting  love  scenes  such  as  occur 
in  any  English  play.  The  real  action 
of    the    play    is    entirely   outside    of    all 


the  impropriety  in  a  manner  which  would 
be  impossible  on  the  modern  stage.  The 
background  may  be  squalid,  and  so  is 
that  of  a  report  of  the  Society  for  the 
Suppression  of  Vice  ;  but  so  far  as  any 
impropriety  is  concerned,  the  play  is  as 
reputable  as  a  meeting  of  that  society, 
perhaps  even  less  prurient. 

The  other  plays  of  Terence  and  many 
of  those  of  Plautus  are  somewhat  less 
fitted  for  performance,  not  on  account  of 
any  immorality,  but  on  account  of  inci- 
dents interwoven  with  the  plot  which  our 
taste  finds  disagreeable.  Yet  there  are 
also  many  to  which  no  objection  can  be 
made  ;  and  we  hope  to  see  the  Latin  play 
established  as  a  regular  institution,  to  be 
performed  at  not  too  long  intervals,  alter- 
nating in  some  manner  with  a  Greek  play. 
I  feel  sure  nobody  will  be  injured  mor- 
ally, and  many  will  be  benefited  intellec- 
tually thereby. 


TIDE-RIDE. 

By  Elizabeth  Hill. 


THE  shrill,  proud  sound  of  neighing  comes  up  the  surging  brine, — 
The  Riders  of  the  Sea  have  won  yon  far  horizon  line  ; 
They  crest  the  poising  billow,  they  touch  the  meteor's  glare, — 
A  vast  weird  host  uprearing  through  the  black  midnight  air. 

O'er  leagues  of  lifting  water,  in  wide,  unbroken  ranks. 

With  muffled  beat  of  pounding  hoofs,  and  wash  of  plunging  flanks, 

With  wild,  unearthly  cheering,  outswelling,  dying  strains, 

The  demon  army  of  the  flood  on  the  broad  coast-reach  gains. 

And  onward,  ever  onward,  the  serried  legions  win, — 
An  endless  mighty  rise  and  fall,  a  growing,  deepening  din. 
The  volumed  chaHenge  booms  along  to  fill  the  caverned  shore ; 
And  up  the  reefs  of  waiting  land  rolls  the  far-echoing  roar. 

And  nearer,  ever  nearer,  until  their  looming  van 

Shows  every  gleaming  ghostly  steed,  and  naked  phantom  man. 

The  hurling  wave  drives  through  them,  and  through  them  sweeps  the  gale. 

And  through  them  shine  the  seaward  stars,  —  vague  and  far-off  and  pale. 

.And  on  the  last,  high  billow  the  ocean-riders  brace. 
Exultant,  tense  is  every  limb,  and  fixed  is  every  face. 
Then  with  one  wild  upleaping,  and  one  great  ringing  shock, 
The  demons  of  the  midnight  flood  charge  the  unflinching  rock. 


^C^A;/ 


WHAT  NEW  ENGLAND  OWES  TO  THI- 
STATES. 


UNITED 


By  Lewis  G.  Janes. 


Nc  ilil.KSSE    OltLICE. 

^HK  patriotic  New-Kng- 
landerwill  perhaps  pro- 
test against  the  natural 
implication  of  my  title. 
He  will  declare  that  its 
phraseology  should  be 
reversed.  The  debt  of 
the  Republic  to  New 
England  has  bceh  the  theme  of  many 
an  able  writer.  It^niay  well  inspire 
the  ]iens  of  many  m^e.  In  fact,  my 
own  topic  implies  this  r^ersion  of  title 
as  well  as  the  form  which  1  have  adoi^ted. 
The  solution  of  this  appareiiKantinonv. 
will,  I  think,  clearly  ajipear. 

That  which  I  first  wish  to  celeljSite  is 
the  New  Kngland  Town  Meeting, 
virtues  of  this  scion  of  the  ancestral/*'/ 
///('('/  lia\c  been  emphasized  by  many 
writers,  —  by  Fiske,  by  Hryce,  by  IJc 
rocquevillc,  by  all  who  have  carefully 
studied  the  life  history  of  the  .American 
people  and  the  development  of  our 
democratic  institutions.  It  is  true  that 
Mr.  Charles  Francis  .\dams,  in  his  inter- 
esting ac  count  of  the  evolution  of  the 
town  of  (Juincy  and  it.s  development  into 
a  city,  intimates  that  the  Town  .Meeting 
has  had  its  day  and  tKat  it  must  give 
place  to  more  modcni  and  convenient 
methods  of  local  g(/Cernmenl.  I  cannot 
tliink  that  in  this  particular  he  has  sjjoken 
advisedly,  with  Awe  regard  for  the  facts 
t)f  history  and  (lie  existing  situation. 

New  I'.nghind  has  clung  to  the  Town 
Meeting  a."*  the  very  jialladium  of  her 
liberties.     The    citizens  of   the  town  of 


Boston  did  not  abdicate  their  rights  of 
direct  legislation  in  local  affa^i^  imlil 
1 82 2,  when  the  ])opulation  was /nounting 
above  forty  thousand  and  thc'^'registered 
voters  numbered  between  sev/Cn  and  eight 
thousand.  Recent  examples  show  that 
the  people  of  New  Kngland  are  still 
jealous  of  their  ancient  privileges. 
Brockton  did  not  become  a  city  until  its 
population  approximated  fifteen  thousand. 
(Juincy  itself  cluDg  to  the  folk-moot,  by 
Mr.  Adams's  own  confession,  until  the 
gathering  of  the  voters  in  a  single  legisla- 
tive body  became  a  practical  impossi- 
bility. Walthnm,  {"hico|)ee  and  I'itts- 
field  bear  testimony  to  the  same  popular 
feeling;  I'awtucket,  in  Rhode  Island, 
ilid  not  claim  municipal  honors  until  its 
population  ajiproximated  twenty  thousand. 
Woonsocket  divided  its  suffrage  between 
the  towns  of  Smithfield  and  Cumberland 
^until  it  became  a  substantial  village. 
Ishe  high  average  of  urban  population  in 
NeX  l-^ngland  as  comjiarcd  with  the  West 
and  ^yiith,  especially  with  those  states  in 
which  the  county  constitutes  the  unit  of 
local  go\>crnmcnt,  maintained  without 
the  compulsion'of  legil  limitation,  also 
testifies  to  the^ove  for  the  Town  Meet- 
ing in  the  sectioB  where  it  originated. 

Nor  is  this  teslmiony  more  emphatic 
than  that  of  its  steacly  career  of  conquest 
in  those  states  where""  .^it  has  come  into 
direct  competition  witrr  the  representa- 
tive county  system  of  government.  In 
Illinois,  where  the  county  had  the  start 
in  the  r.iie  under  the  Constitution  of 
1818,  and  where  the  option  of  adopting 
;he  Town  Meeting  was  left  to  the  coun- 
:us    liv   the    (  i)n>tiUilu)n     of    1S48,   less 


'*•  ^^ 


•JLv.^, 


-  •"  f'>i.> 


